Changed
by Crystal7
Summary: After Mondego's death, Albert contemplates his life, his parents, the man he believed was his father, and the huge decision that he now as to make. Based off of the 2002 movie. One Shot.


Disclaimer: I don't own "The Count of Monte Cristo," its characters, or the dialog in this piece. All these items belong to Alexandre Dumas (author of the orginal novel), Jay Wolpert (screenwriter), and Buena Vista Home Video, who created the 2002 movie (I'm not sure who it was, sorry!), etc. Please don't sue; I'm only borrowing this terrific scene. This is nonprofit, I make no money.  
  
Author's Note: This little (only 1,077 words) piece is based off the 2002 movie. Please don't yell at me for not reading the book, it is on my reading list, which is about as long as the Nile River, and only growing longer. Please enjoy. Reviews, criticism, and even flames are loved! You'll probably see more of these teeny pieces from me because I'm doing these as exercises in order to expand and help my description of a person's thoughts and emotions. Thanks for reading!  
  
- Changed -  
  
I stared out the open window in my new rooms. Curtsey of Monte Cristo or Edmund Dantes, whoever he was. According to my mother, he is my father. I can see now the physical resemblance between us but other than that I feel as thought I have nothing in common with Monte Cristo. I can see my mother and him strolling through the gardens below. My mother loves him very much. I've seen her look at him like she never looked at my father, or at least the man I believed was my father.  
  
Monte Cristo had killed him after he had shot my mother. But he hadn't meant to shoot her, but he hadn't cared either. I watched as my mother laced her fingers through Monte Cristo's. I had looked up to him and respected him, once. Now, all I felt was hate and pain. He had used me to exact revenge upon my father and those responsible for taking away his life. Everyone believed me to be the son of Count Mondego, who had squandered his fortune and left his son penniless.  
  
Monte Cristo had already married my mother, they cared nothing for the politics of society and what anyone thought of them. It wasn't until my father, Fernand's death, that I learned what sort of person he truly was. He was a coward and a cheat. He gambled away his money, and has many mistresses. From the amount of tearful young women I had seen at his service, his bed had never been cold.  
  
My mother had tried to make me understand after his death, what sort of man Count Mondego really was. I struggled to grasp this, for I had admired my father. I had been blind to what sort of men Count Mondego and Count Monte Cristo truly were. Mother tried to explain to me that Monte Cristo was an alias Edmund Dante had been using and his reasons for what he had done.  
  
I understand his reasons true enough, but he had killed the only man I ever called Father. Sadly, though, I also know that Monte Cristo was more of a father to me in the short time that I had known him that Mondego had been the sixteen years he had been in my life. Monte Cristo was kind enough and very adventuress. He had offered to teach me languages, fighting, and anything else I could possibly wish to know, so many of these things I would never learn inside a school.  
  
I shut the curtains to the window and lay on my back on my bed. Monte Cristo had told my mother, who had told me, about how Edmund Dantes had come across a vast fortune and become the Count of Monte Cristo. I loved Fernand as my father, despite all he has done. I feel it is a crime to also look up and love Monte Cristo has my father. But it can't possibly be wrong since Monte Cristo, no Edmund Dantes, is my father.  
  
Monte Cristo has told me that if I wish, he will openly acknowledge me as his son, and I can take the Dantes and Monte Cristo name. He has assured me that as much as he wished to claim me as his son, he will not if it is what I wish. My mother too, has told me that the decision is mine and mine alone to make. Part of me wishes to openly acknowledged as Monte Cristo's son but the would rather keep the Mondego name, despite the stain it has upon it. My mother's reputation would be ruined if I was acknowledged as Monte Cristo's son and despite her reassurances that she does not care for reputation I still do not want scandal brought to her.  
  
Monte Cristo is planning on selling the estate and all of us leaving Paris and France altogether to start anew somewhere. Somewhere where there will be no stain upon my mother reputation, where I will not be the bastard son of Monte Cristo, and where Monte Cristo may mean something more than just the rich foreigner who killed Count Mondego and evil companions into exile and prison.  
  
It has been only a few short months since Mondego's death and my mother and Monte Cristo are anxious to leave France, I have given my word that I too would be happy to leave and now arrangements are being made, as well as a viable excuse as to why, since I may some day return to Paris.  
  
My life has changed so much since Monte Cristo's arrival in Paris and I am grateful for the change, but in many ways I resent it as well. No longer are my friends as true, now they are greedy for word has escaped that I am possibly Monte Cristo's heir, which is also a decision he left up to me.  
  
I debate and hold off on any decisions but I know ultimately what lies in my heart. I wish to be acknowledged, not as Monte Cristo's son, but as Edmund Dantes' son. I wish to inherit his lands and wealth, but most of all I want a family. I never had a real family with Mondego and my mother, it was always political.  
  
Now, however, Dantes has married my mother and wishes to be a family. That is my wish as well, but for some reason, deep inside of me a loyalty remains to Mondego, something I cannot seem to shake.  
  
I take a peek out the window, they are still in the garden. Grabbing my shoes I head down the stairs and out the door to meet them. My mother embraces my lightly and plants a kiss on my cheek. She says nothing.  
  
"I have made my decision," I announce.  
  
"Considering you have already alerted us that you too wish to leave France I can only assume this is about your parentage." Monte Cristo said in a firm voice. Political and polite but I could sense a small hint of hopefulness behind it.  
  
"I have. I've decided that I don't wish to be acknowledged as the son of Monte Cristo," I proclaimed. I saw a deep sense of loss in Monte Cristo's eyes and imagined that my mother's eyes looked the same, "but rather as the son of Edmund Dantes."  
  
Monte Cristo, my father, smiled at me and pulled me into a deep hug, "It shall be done."  
  
THE END 


End file.
